In all the years I’ve been teaching riding, I’ve come across two main types of kids. Those who love horses, and those who love to ride. Sometimes the two things do cross right from the beginning but more often than not the passion starts as either one or the other. I’ve seen that passion grow to encompass both – the sport and the animal. And I’ve seen it falter as well.
This year, 2018, has been a life altering year for me. No major milestones – my child is already born, no more on the way, I’m married, I’ve bought my house. But, my business that I’ve worked all my life for has been crippled and is limping it’s way back to where I want it to be. And it’s not just outside influences like students going, horses heartbreakingly being horses, ponies testing and kids not interested in horseshowing or being as dedicated as I would like. It’s also been extremely internal.
This year has been achingly real. Students I’ve loved for years have decided that riding isn’t for them, or that they want to move barns, or they’ve grown up and moved on. It was so difficult for me that I’ve really considered shutting down and finding something else to do. Riding instructors do not talk about this. They do not let the world know that they’re hurting. They close the door to any discussion. They move on. They have to. There’s no room in riding and horses for a soft hearted, sensitive instructor with the passion to teach when no one wants to learn. They close the door and look forward, looking for the next rider, the next horse, the next chapter.
Chronic pain has played a major factor in the way I feel about, well, everything. I’m not sure there are many things more difficult than getting out in that arena, or going to that horseshow and standing and walking all day long when you are in so much pain you can barely focus on the students and parents and horses that are counting on you to be your best self. It’s damn near impossible to think outside the box, to be creative, to be happy and laughing and fun when you are absolutely miserable from pain. And students want happy and laughing and fun. Some students want serious and focus and instruction with criticism, but not many of them. Most want a release from the stress of school, home, friends, family, whatever. They want to spend time with their favorite animal and far be it for me to deny them this.
I have really reflected on this lately. A lot of these are the kids that loved horses first. They loved horses and so chose to ride. Begged for lessons. Begged for a pony. Begged to be at the barn. Little did they realize how much work it entails. It can’t be just surface love. It has to be all-encompassing. Or it really is just infatuation. I thought about this last night as Baby Girl and I were out in the rain and thunder and lightening feeding the horses. We got absolutely soaked. We laughed. I had rain dripping from my nose and hair. Baby Girl jumped in all the muddy puddles. She was “scared” of the thunder but wouldn’t stay in the barn. Had to be out in the rain with me. (So clearly not that scared!). She sang and danced and jumped her way down to the paddocks. She rode on the mower with me to deliver the hay. When we finished she giggled and screeched when I had trouble getting her soaking wet pants off so she could get in the bath. She may not be doing the hard work, but she’s learning that she won’t melt. That horses require dedication no matter the weather. No matter the time of day, or the other things I (or she) would like to do instead.
Kids who start out loving horses first sometimes miss the memo that a horse is an actual heart-beating, breathing animal that needs care. That has a brain of its own and processes things differently than we do. They fail to understand why a horse will spook at nothing, they get frustrated when the horse misbehaves. Sometimes they become afraid and quit riding. I honestly don’t regret when that happens. Because I understand that these kids, and sometimes adults, don’t really understand horses. They want to love them from afar and pet them and dream of them. A kid who becomes afraid to ride shouldn’t ride. Simple as that. I don’t believe for a minute that any horse is absolutely bomb proof. Crazy shit happens. Of course I don’t wish for a child to be scared of horses, but afraid of riding is a different battle entirely. I can’t fight that battle. I can try for a little while, I can try to teach techniques and skills so that the rider can cope. And sometimes I’m successful and sometimes I am not. In the end the child has to decide for herself. And part of being your best self is letting the child choose to quit and not be angry or dismissive about it. Or helping a child choose to just ride and not show. Or helping a child understand that it’s ok to grieve a lost horse, or a bad show, or a fall that devestated you. The child who truly loves horses will bounce back. Maybe she’ll continue to ride and show and go on to do amazing things. Or maybe she’ll just enjoy her time at the barn. Or maybe she’ll choose to help others through Equine related therapy. The point is, it’s all okay.
After this extremely difficult year I understand now that being MY best self means letting students be THEIR best selves as well. They will not all be competitive, driven, and focused on the end result. And I shouldn’t be either. I’ve got a whole new crop of young riders and I’m excited about them. I’m excited to teach what they want to learn, slowly or quickly depending on their abilities and mindset. I’m excited to step back in the ring or horseshow arena with less pain, to be able to focus entirely on my job. To help them become their BEST selves, whatever that means for them. Especially for these kids that started out loving horses first.
Isn’t it all just amazing?